Make Believe
by peanutbutterer
Summary: Two days straight chasing bad guys and she's up for a movie marathon, but four hours with Sam's kids and she's out like a light. (Post 4x21, Resurrection.)


For Bea the Monster, who requested "babysitting Sam's kids." I'm sorry this is probably not at all what you had in mind.

* * *

"Well, I think it's safe to say that's the last time she'll sneak out of bed," Deeks proclaims as he rounds the corner into the living room. "She's totally," he trails off as his eyes land on his partner, "...passed out."

Kensi's lying across the couch, arm tucked under her head, completely asleep.

He smiles. Two days straight chasing bad guys and she's up for a movie marathon, but four hours with Sam's kids and she's out like a light.

He tugs a blanket off a nearby armchair and steps up to the couch, laying it gently over her. The remote falls out of her loose grip as he pulls it away from her and flips off the television.

There's no room for him on the couch, so he drops into the chair, which is almost directly facing her. So, well, if he just happens to be staring at her it's the room's fault, right?

He settles into the chair and studies his partner as she sleeps. She looks exhausted, but peaceful. It was a long evening. Awesome, but long. Somewhere along the line her hair fell out of her braid. There's a little bit of flour above her eyebrow from the cookies they baked. Red marker streaks are smudged on her fingers from their "Rip City" and "Go Blazers!" signs they made and hung up for Sam. (Deeks is going to pin the blame for those squarely on Kensi's shoulders and the physical evidence is definitely going to be helpful.) Bright pink blush tints her cheeks from her impromptu makeover.

Kensi smiles about something and burrows a little deeper into the couch.

He closes his eyes and the room shifts - lighter colored walls, a fluffier couch, a big window with a view of the beach, him tucked in behind her. He imagines them being startled awake by a pair of pouncing toddlers; everyone laughing and tickling and being disgustingly domestic. The little girl has long brown hair and a mischievous glimmer in her eyes and the boy (the youngest) has grass stains on his knees.

Deeks' phone vibrates in his pocket and he reluctantly opens his eyes as he drags it out.

_Hey baby. You coming?_

He clicks the screen off with a little too much vehemence. Of course. Of course it would be now. Because he shouldn't be thinking these things, right? Like some divine power wants to remind him that mutant ninja assassins are in his mind and this - _this _is his reality. His currently very, very shitty reality.

He sighs, scratching at the back of his neck before typing out a reply.

_Soon_.

Her answering text pings back at him before he can tuck the phone away again.

_Sooner if you head over right now..._

He jams the phone into his pocket and pushes out of the chair. The air in the room is thick - too thick - and he's having trouble breathing.

Kensi's sleeping with a smile on her face and he's making a play date with a crazy woman like there's nothing between them but there's everything between them and now _she's _between them and Kensi doesn't even _know _and -

He forcefully shakes himself out of his thoughts and heads to the kitchen, grateful for the full sink of dirty dishes. The water's a little too hot but he lets it burn as he scrubs, some sort of punishment or distraction. Maybe a combination of the two.

This thing with Granger is something he's well-suited for, really. As much as he wants to put the blame solely in the assistant director's lap, he can't honestly say he doesn't understand why he was chosen. Undercover, long-term ops are his specialty. He's good at this - great at this even, and he's in an ideal position to get the job done.

But it sucks. It really sucks. And it's all because of Kensi. Because somewhere along the line their partnership became something important to him, a part of him, and now working outside of it feels wrong - feels like cheating.

And that's just the professional side of things. When he thinks about the other aspect, he - well, he doesn't like to think about the other aspect. He can't.

The dishwasher's almost completely full when she steps into the doorframe, rumpled from sleep and blinking in confusion.

"Sorry," she says, voice a little gravelly. She runs a hand through her hair. "I guess I was tired."

"No problem." He continues to load glasses into the top rack and tries to push Monica as far as possible from his mind. "I figured I'd clean this mess up before Sam gets home."

She wraps her arms around herself. "You should have woken me. I'd have helped."

He shrugs. "It was kind of relaxing."

She comes up beside him and leans her hip against the counter. "You okay?"

"Me? Yeah, sure."

She makes a hmming noise and he knows she doesn't quite believe him but he doesn't want to call her on it - doesn't want to challenge her because she's right, there is something wrong but it's not something he can admit to.

"So, was it as horrible as you thought it would be?"

She eyes him like she knows what he's doing, but allows the subject change. "It was good. It was nice. They're sweet kids - it makes it easy."

"Yeah, they are. They must get that from their mother."

Kensi laughs. "Careful. The nanny cams might have audio."

"That wouldn't surprise me at all." He puts soap in the machine and closes the door. "Especially since he had prior notice that I was coming over. He probably installed at least two more this morning."

"That one in the laundry room?"

He nods. "And the hallway."

"It looked a little out of place," she agrees, handing him a towel.

"Thanks."

"Thanks for doing all the work."

"Well, I knew if I left all the cleaning to you it would never get done."

She rolls her eyes and picks up a rag. "Must you always point out my one and only flaw?"

He cocks his head.

"Okay, one of two," she amends as she starts wiping the countertop.

"Do you want me to remind you what happened with the first batch of cookies?"

"That wasn't my fault. That was the oven."

"Yeah, ovens are notoriously temperamental."

"You say that sarcastically, but it's true."

"Mmm hmm."

"It is!"

"It worked fine for me."

"After I got the kinks out."

"Did you say kinks?"

She tosses the rag at his face and he catches it. "You're an idiot."

He grins. "You adore me."

"I tolerate you."

"Maybe somewhere in between."

"Maybe." She shrugs her shoulders with a smile. "Hey, that movie we started the other day is about to expire on my DVR. You want to finish it tonight after we're done here?"

More than anything. But there's no room for that in this reality. "I'm a little tired."

"There's only half of it left. I'll slap you to keep you from dozing off."

"Tempting."

She beams.

"I should probably head home though."

He can tell she's trying not to let her smile falter, but it definitely leaves her eyes. "Okay, no problem. Mind if I watch it myself? Seems a shame to waste it."

"Sure, yeah. Of course."

The sounds of the front door opening save them from the awkward silence that was sure to follow. He hates that he's thankful.

"Honey," calls Sam as he walks into the house, "I'm ho- Rip City?!"

Kensi's eyes get wide. "Shit. I forgot about that!"

Deeks laughs and braces himself for the incoming SEAL. "Don't worry. I'll save you."

"I know," she says as she tucks in behind him.

He bites down on the shame that creeps up and tells himself that she's right in that at least. Whatever he hides, whatever lies he has to tell, there's one thing that will remain true no matter the reality.

He'll always save her.

"And if you don't," she whispers, breath hot in his ear, "you're going down with me."

* * *

He pulls up outside of Monica's apartment thirty minutes later and kills the engine. The heavy feeling in his chest won't go away, but he doesn't have the luxury of worrying about it. He's got a job to do and he's going to do it. There's no other option.

His phone pings with a new text and he hesitates before pulling it out of his pocket.

_Last chance_, it says. _I'm pulling out the ice cream. One spoon or two?_

The heavy feeling flutters for a moment and then burrows deeper in.

_Rain check?_

_Sure. Nn, partner._

He just hopes she'll still be willing to let him cash that rain check when this whole thing comes out.

_Nn, princess._

He powers off the phone and tosses it into the glovebox. With one last sigh he opens the door and steps out of the car.

They'll figure it out, he reminds himself. They always do.

As Max begins to take over, Deeks tries his best to make himself believe that's true.


End file.
